


My Favorite Color Is You

by Drhair76



Series: the night is dark but the moon is bright [20]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drhair76/pseuds/Drhair76
Summary: He already mourned his family when he found their dead adult bodies. He dug crude graves and did his best to put his siblings to rest. He lost so much energy and exerted so much effort but he had to.But he never allowed himself to mourn the childhood versions of them.or, the one where Five finds a nail polish bottle in the middle of the apocalypse and gets really soft.





	My Favorite Color Is You

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so back in the 'The Light Is Coming' fic I mentioned Five's ability to paint nails and so this is sort of a preview to that?

 Blue.

Five blinked. And then blinked. And then blinked again. 

No, it was really blue. 

It was only a stitch of it, but Five has spent so long staring at dull grey smoke, blackened char, and dim orange flames, that the bright splash of royal blue made him pause. 

He reached down, brushing away some rocks and rubble that were in his way and picked up the blue. It was a small bottle, cracked, leaking, but still held together by some magic force of will. 

Seeing it gave him flashes of almost forgotten memories. 

Allison pulling Klaus into her room after a hard mission, Grace presenting Allison with a brand new bottle on their birthday, Klaus coming into Five's room with bright pink and yellow fingertips. Ben caving and allowing Klaus to paint his nails black and Vanya allowing Allison to put a clear shine on hers. 

Before Five knew it, his vision was blurred and tears were falling out of his eyes. 

He allows himself this moment of weakness in remembrance. He already mourned his family when he found their dead adult bodies. He dug crude graves and did his best to put his siblings to rest. He lost so much energy and exerted so much effort but he  _had_  to. 

But he never allowed himself to mourn the childhood versions of them. 

There was always a small hope keeping him going, keeping him searching for his next meal and keeping him testing out new equations. 

He wanted to find them, get back to them, he missed  _them_. 

The Klaus that would beg Five to let him do his nails or put pigtails in his hair. The Allison that would offer a steadying hand whenever Five felt himself stumbling from exhaustion. The Diego that would help Five learn new moves he mastered and immediately back him up against their father. The Vanya that would curl a small hand against his whenever she saw he was scared. The Luther that would advise Five to relax whenever Five pushed too far with Reginald. The Ben who would sit and rest with him whenever his chest felt heavy.

Maybe he'd never find them again, but that didn't mean he had to forget. 

So he pocketed the bottle and even though it was sticky and leaking and wouldn't do anything to keep him alive, it allowed him a moment to grieve the only family he's ever known. 

 

* * *

 

Returning to his makeshift campsite to see Dolores waiting for him never failed to loosen something tight in his chest. 

Sometimes he'd be out too long, searching for life or food or water and he'd forget she was here. He'd forget that he had someone to walk with him through this hell. He'd forget that he wasn't completely alone. 

"Guess what I got?" Five asked, putting down his pack and pulling out the small bottle. "It's nail polish."

She was excited but also worried about him, chastising him for not focusing on more important things like food and water. 

"I know, I know. It'll be cockroaches again tonight." He tsked. Five sat down in front of her Indian style. "But I couldn't pass this up."

She was doubtful, all snarky and eye rolling but there was a pleasant and hopeful curiosity that had Five beaming.

He carefully unscrewed the top and instantly winced at the smell. It was strong and Five briefly wondered how Allison was able to stand it when she did her nails. 

Thinking about her hurt so he moved on, balancing the bottle down on his knee and taking Dolores' hand. 

She chattered on while he did it, explaining how to keep it from flooding, telling him to paint more than one coat, saying that her favorites were purple and silver but blue was great. 

When he finished it was rough, streaky and didn't look at all the way that Allison's nails looked when she was finished but they were the most color Five and Dolores had seen in a long time, and that was more than enough.

 

* * *

 

 

The apocalypse is averted. 

After many sleepless nights, hidden injuries, and too many jumps, Five is finally free and all his siblings are safe. Vanya still has a power to master and apparently so does Klaus. Luther is still a dumbass and so is Diego, but they're all alive and well. 

There are still so many things to worry about. 

Whoever Harold Jenkins is and what his deal is, Vanya's sound telekinesis and the commission, who are definitely going to be sending more people after him now that there was no more apocalypse. 

But before losing himself in all that, Five makes a trip to the store. He doesn't tell anyone where he's going or what he's getting, and he steals a couple of dollars from Diego before he leaves. The trip only takes him ten minutes tops and he's back before anyone even noticed he was gone. 

He goes up to his room, shuts the door and turns to Dolores, who is dutifully sitting on his bed.

Five smiles and shakes the small bag. "Guess what I got?" 

Dolores' nails were chipped and marred from their recent fight with Cha-Cha but Five pulled out some nail polish remover, some pads and got to work. 

It was strangely therapeutic. The familiar actions allowing him to let his mind clear of all the problems that had been festering lately. All he had to focus on right now was the simple back and forth motion of his cotton pad so he could get all the old polish off. 

He finished, throwing away the old cotton and reaching back into the back with an excited smile. "Are you ready Dolores?" 

He pulls out two bottles, purple and silver and is delighted to hear Dolores' excited squeal. He alternates colors and he's glad to see that non-apocalyptic nail polish is a lot easier to put on than he thought. 

When he's done Dolores is happy and he's calm, calmer than he's been in a really long time and unknowingly, he's smiling along with her. 


End file.
